Hey! I am Rhys Ford… speaking to you in my own… okay that doesn’t work. Does anyone else remember Don Carnage!? He’s speaking at you in his own voice! Ah, the esoteric memories. You’ll probably want to skip this part during the next few…*coffs*…okay, a dozen blogs as I parcel out a short tale featuring Wolf and Tristan!
Welcome to a Hellsinger Investigation!
There will be prizes and giveaways. Be sure to hit up each blog for an update on the investigation. I have brought in for this tale of ghosts and shenanigans two special prizes (well many of them…but two!). You might have seen them already; a pair of cuddly alpaca and a braided leather Wolf sigil bracelet. You’ll be able to win one or both at each stop with a Grand Prize to be given away at the end of the tour.
The giveaway for this spot is: a Wolf Sigil Bracelet.
Residence: Hazel Maplethorn-Bocker
Paranormal Activity: Objects Relocating
Location: Eureka, CA
Paranormal Activity: Objects Relocating
Location: Eureka, CA
The residence is occupied by Ms. M-B and ten cats. Client is retired school-teacher and has no history of psychic or paranormal activity either personal or in residence. Residence is 1940s bungalow with no recorded deaths. Land cleared of any prior paranormal activity; formerly undeveloped acreage. No structures or causalities reported at location. Cannot discount native population or transitory inhabitants prior to establishment of city boundaries.
Team: Gidget and Matt
Consultant: Tristan Pryce
“Indians.” Gidget stared up at Wolf from where she was crouching on the floor. Her legs were nearly buried in equipment and cables. “Here? In Eureka?”
“Native Americans,” Tristan corrected, handing his lover a cup of coffee. “Hazel said there was a massacre here back in 1860. Well not here, per se but on an island out in the bay. Nearly all of the women and children were killed with hatchets and axes. A witness said he heard screaming but went back to sleep. Apparently they didn’t want to use guns because the shots would be too noticeable.”
“That’s horrible.” Matt echoed Gidget’s disgusted look. “Why… why would someone do that?”
“Land, cattle.” Wolf mounted the stepstool Hazel’d given him and began to pull video cables out of an air conditioning duct he used to thread feed lines through the house. “Because they could. A lot of shit happens in this world because people just can do something.”
“Cynical, much?” Tristan shot him a look and Wolf answered with one of his own.
“Realist.” He responded lightly, fitting the grate back onto the opening to prevent it from rattling about as they filmed. “Skeptic where ghosts are concerned—”
“Even after everything we’ve been through?” Tristan straightened up and cocked his head at Wolf. “Really? Still?”
Wolf didn’t call out his employees suddenly finding something else to do in another part of the house although he had to give them credit for slithering away as quietly as they did. Matt even gently shut the door behind him, sealing Wolf and Tristan into Hazel’s dining room with a quiet snick of a latch.
“Especially after everything we’ve been through.” He climbed down from the stepstool then reached for Tristan’s arm. His lover shook him off, green eyes flashing with a clear warning of a brewing storm. “Thursday, come on. You know my first instinct is to debunk something. I’m not saying ghosts aren’t real. I’m saying not everything is a ghost and people shouldn’t jump to conclusions before they examine the situation.”
Tristan’s response was thick with derision. Short, certainly, but thick. “Huh.”
“I come from a family where people lie about ghosts to make money. Not all of them—” Wolf held up a hand to stop Tristan’s incoming protests. “But definitely a lot of them. It’s taking advantage of people and that’s why I’m skeptical.”
“Okay, name one job where you declared there were phantasms.” Tristan stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, rocking back on his heels and staying out of Wolf’s reach. “One job.”
“One paying job.” Tristan qualified. “Name one assignment when it wasn’t swamp gas or kids playing a joke. I’ll even take a job where you said maybe there was something there.”
“I don’t have… shit, okay, yeah. We’ve had some jobs where things could be spectral but there wasn’t enough evidence to say for certain that there was a haunting.” Wolf edged closer, snagging Tristan’s belt loops to pull him in to a loose embrace. “Doesn’t mean I said there weren’t any ghosts. Just that there wasn’t any evidence.”
“Sometimes you have to take things on faith.” Tristan sighed heavily but let himself be pulled in tighter. “I’m not saying there are ghosts or something here. I’m saying you have to open yourself up to the possibilities more. You can’t come into a place and say… prove it. You should come in with at least an inkling that there might be something—or someone—there.”
“Tell you what, if you tell me there’s something here, I’ll believe you.” Wolf murmured as he nibbled on the corner of Tristan’s mouth. A strand of his lover’s hair was caught between them, and Wolf smiled as he tasted the citrus scent of Tristan’s shampoo on his tongue. “But I’ve got to have something to take away to show it’s real. It’s what I do, Tris.”
“I know. But I’d like you to open-minded. You say you’re a scientist. Yes, you need proof but aren’t you guilty of the exact same thing you’re accusing other people of?” Tristan leaned back in Wolf’s arms, sliding their hips together in a sensual grind.
“Keep doing that and there’s going to be more than ghost hunting.” Tristan gave him a steely glare hot enough to rival the one they’d gotten from Hazel’s grey cat. “Okay, what am I accusing people of?”
“Jumping to conclusions.” Tristan broke away, sliding his hand across Wolf’s flat stomach before picking up a portable EMF reader. “I’m going to see what I can find out in the kitchen. You sit here and stew in your hypocrisy a bit and let me know how it tastes. Hurry up in here. Hazel’s making us lasagna for dinner.”
“Yeah, right,” Wolf called out as Tristan opened the door. “You guys have lasagna. I’ll be choking down that helping of crow you just served up to me.”
Duck Duck Ghost by Rhys Ford
Paranormal investigator Wolf Kincaid knows what his foot tastes like.
Mostly because he stuck it firmly in his mouth when his lover, Tristan Pryce, accidentally drugged him with a batch of psychotropic baklava. Needing to patch things up between them, Wolf drags Tristan to San Luis Obispo, hoping Tristan’s medium ability can help evict a troublesome spirit haunting an old farmhouse.
With Wolf’s sister handling Hoxne Grange’s spectral visitors, Tristan finds himself in the unique position of being able to leave home for the first time in forever, but Wolf’s roughshod treatment is the least of his worries. Tristan’s ad-hoc portal for passing spirits seems to be getting fewer and fewer guests, and despite his concern he’s broken his home, Tristan agrees to help Wolf’s cousin, Sey, kick her poltergeist to the proverbial curb.
San Luis Obispo brings its own bushel of troubles. Tristan’s ghost whispering skill is challenged not only by a terrorizing haunting but also by Wolf’s skeptical older cousin, Cin. Bookended by a pair of aggressive Kincaids, Tristan soon finds himself in a spectral battle that threatens not only his sanity but also his relationship with Wolf, the first man he’s ever loved.
Available from Dreamspinner on Sept 8. (http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5409)
Duck Duck Ghost Promo Tour
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Smoocher’s Voice: http://www.smoochersvoice.com/
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Fiction Vixen: http://fictionvixen.com/
Boy meets Boy: http://boymeetsboyreviews.blogspot.com/
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About Rhys Ford
Rhys admits to sharing the house with three cats of varying degrees of black fur and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.
My Blog: www.rhysford.com
And at the Starbucks down the street. No really, they’re 24/7. And a drive-thru. It’s like heaven.
My books can be purchased, folded and first chapters read at Dreamspinner Press. http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com